


Bury Me Face Down

by Circeancity



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Ghosts, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, lots of death tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14069835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Circeancity/pseuds/Circeancity
Summary: From the rubble, what do I see?There's a whole damn army thinkin' that they're gonna harm meSay goodnight, I'll never get freeOh, I got troubles that won't let me beBut I won't get tired, set the town on fire'Till my troubles got trouble with me--Gavin takes a risky job for some quick cash. And then he dies.And so begins his afterlife with Achievement City's most notorious criminals.





	1. Chapter 1

    Realistically, Gavin knew this wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened upon moving to America. He could be the guy trapped in the corner store with a live grenade, or the pedestrian that bounced off their windshield when Ryan turned too sharply, or the dozens of police officers following them, dodging countless bullets and explosives from Gavin’s own hands. Yeah, he wasn’t the _worst_ off person in America, or even just Achievement City, but as the self-proclaimed “Vagabond” cursed under his breath and barrelled them through another police blockade, slamming them both forward against their seatbelts, he began to have second thoughts.

    “How much money am I even getting for this?” Gavin asked, pulling the pin out of his next grenade. He held it for two seconds before throwing (Just long enough, Jack had told him, that it would explode right as his pursuers were driving over it).

    “Does it matter? We gave you some upfront.” Ryan said flatly, turning down an alleyway with no clear exit. He stopped short and Gavin yelped as he was jerked forward.

    “It kinda does! I’m not about to die for a sodding couple grand, y’know!” The Vagabond didn’t respond, he was already out of the car, pulling himself and their weapons bag up on top of a dumpster to reach a rickety metal ladder. Gavin unbuckled himself and followed, “Answer the damn question, Ryan!”

    “If you keep whining, you’re getting nothing.” His voice was almost drowned out by the clang of the ladder falling into place. “This is one of the biggest banks in the city. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

    That wasn’t a comforting answer, he’d only signed on with the Fakes because his time was worth less than nine bucks an hour right now. If being a hired hand for a notorious gang didn’t pay at least a hundred times more than working at Burger King then what was the bloody point, really?

    Jack was supposed to be on her way with a chopper, ready to take them to the target. (Well, she was supposed to be there already since Ryan took a detour to rob a convenience store because he wanted some corn nuts). Noticing a troubling lack of helicopters on the roof, Gavin took out his communicator and called her. “Hey Jack, are we in the right place?”

    “Yeah, yeah, I just needed an extra minute to lose these guys—”

    Ryan grabbed the device out of his hand and growled into the receiver “We don’t have an extra minute, the cops are following us!”

    “Stop bitching, you’re fine.” Her tone was almost worryingly nonchalant, like she didn’t quite grasp the danger they were in. “Don’t you have like a hundred bombs?”

    Ryan grit his teeth “We were kind of saving those for the vault— ”

    “You won’t get to use them if you don’t make it to the bank! I’ll be there in two minutes.”

    Ryan grumbled something unintelligible before letting Gavin have his arm back. Then he pulled a gun larger than any Gavin had ever seen from a holster on his back and pushed it into his hands. “Ever used one of these before?”

    “What? A bazooka?” Gavin said, unable to hide his surprise as he fumbled with the machine. Not quite a bazooka, but a sniper rifle he soon realized. Yeah no, he’d used a hunting rifle before with his granddad, but he wasn’t even sure where someone would _get_ such a serious looking thing.

    Immediately, Ryan took back the beast of a gun. “That answers my question. Just...stay back and don’t get shot.”

    The sirens drew nearer and he could feel his heart race in his chest. For maybe the sixth time in half as many hours, Gavin began to realize that this was literally the worst decision he’d ever made. As the first car rounded the corner, a deafening bang sounded out next to him. Gavin reeled back, ducking for shelter behind an air conditioning unit. As he did, he could see the car’s windshield explode into a shower of glass.

    His eyes darted back to where Ryan had just been standing and found it empty. Panic seized him as bullets started to whip past just above his head. They struck loudly against his cover, sharp, sudden pops that he could feel deep in his bones. Ryan appeared beside him then, just as suddenly as he’d vanished. He was crouched down, bracing the rifle against his shoulder. Every few seconds, he would leave cover and fire again, just once, before going back down. He never said anything, but Gavin could tell from his smile that he’d hit his mark every time.

    “They weren’t prepared for us.” Ryan said as he fired one last shot, “Last one down.”

    “For now.” Gavin could barely keep his voice from shaking. Ryan stood and held out a hand, offering to help him  up. Shaken as he was, Gavin still sneered at the offer. Looking out over the narrow side street, it seemed like a much longer battle had taken place. Discarded bullets and all matter of gibs littered the ground. Gavin turned away and fought back a gag. Over the slight ringing left in his ears, he could hear more sirens in the distance. “How long until Jack gets here?”

    In a moment of near-cinematic convenience, he realized he could hear the roar of a helicopter’s blades coming closer. “Ten..twenty seconds?” Ryan said. Gavin turned to face him and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Jack coming up from behind a tall building in the distance.

    Ryan waved casually at the woman in the cockpit as she lowered down carefully next to them. Gavin put up a hand to shield himself from the wind. Jack chose not to touch down on the roof, forcing the pair of thieves to jump into the cabin. From the outside, it probably looked at least a little badass. At least, Gavin liked to think it did. It _definitely_ looked badass as he stood in the doorway shooting down at the cops that had started to gather again below, absolutely deafened by the combination of the engine and gunfire.

    Ryan grabbed his shoulder and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. “Don’t waste bullets.”

    “I was having fun.” he protested, cringing internally when he realized how childish he sounded. But Ryan had already started ignoring him in favor of the rest of the crew.

    “How’s it looking, alpha team?”

    Michael’s voice came through the speaker, sounding rather proud of himself, “I have two cars here with me and Ray's bringing another one. Did the Brit-tard fuck anything up yet?”

    “Surprisingly, no.”

    “The 'tard' can hear you.” Gavin glared at the masked man, who returned the gesture with a glare of his own. Piercing blue eyes that felt like they belonged more on a predator than a man. Not that, y’know, Gavin was afraid of him or anything. Not any more than he figured he ought to be.  He looked away, towards Jack who was too focused to contribute to the argument, or just didn’t care. “Anyway, I think you’ll find I’m not as stupid as I look.”

    The rundown shops and sketchy neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city soon gave way to the skyscrapers and orderly streets of downtown. Jack flew far too close to said skyscrapers for comfort, but neither she nor Ryan seemed bothered by it.

    “We’ll be landing soon, remember to stay on task, gamma team.” Jack said, though it was directed entirely at Ryan. “None of that flashy ‘oh the Vagabond’s come out to play’ bullshit. Just get the money and come back up.”

    “What if I feel like playing?” Ryan shot back.

    “Then you’re walking home.” She gave him a wry grin and turned to Gavin, “Make sure he keeps his head out of his ass long enough to get to the vault.”

    “Not quite sure I can do that.” he said with a small laugh. Suddenly Jack’s expression became deathly serious.

    “For your own sake, make sure this goes off without a hitch.”

    “Uh...I’ll try. You have my word.”

 

* * *

 

    This was supposed to be the first of three targets the Fakes were hitting (four counting the impulse-robbing of the corner store). A truly ambitious heist that, as they promised several times, would leave Gavin with more money than he knew what to do with, all he had to do was play his part and live to spend it. He had given his word and felt rather confident as he and Ryan stormed into the building. They managed to dispatch the first few security guards easily, thanks to the element of surprise. After that...things went wrong.

    The two of them were crouched behind a counter, Ryan intermittently ducking for cover and shooting at their assailants, and Gavin hunched over in agony, pressing his hands against a bullet wound on his side and _praying_ for his blood to stop coming out so fast.

    “Now, before anyone says ‘I told you so’” Ryan was still perfectly calm, if a bit annoyed, “I never said I had faith in this kid—”

    “You killed him already? Jesus Christ, you just got there!” Michael’s voice exploded over the communicator, crackling and distorted by just how loud he was.

    “Still alive, actually!” Gavin shot back, eyes wide with panic, “I only got shot a couple times.”

    “Oh ok only a couple that makes it okay— what do you think this is, a video game?”

    Gavin refused to dignify that with a response, mostly because even just moving to grab the communicator sent him into a whole new world of pain.

    “Look, forget him, I just need Jack to come down and cover me so I can—”

    “Forget me!? You better be having a laugh here, Ry—”

“    If you think I’m going down in the middle of a firefight, you’re crazy.”

    Ryan started yelling something, but it was completely inaudible over the three other voices screaming through the communicator (including Ray just yelling “Loud noises! Anger! Mean names!”) They all quickly shut up when Geoff started talking, “I didn’t want to bring this kid in the first place Ryan! The rest of this plan isn’t going to work unless we have six people, so you better find a way to un-kill him or— ”

    “Stop saying I’m dead!” Gavin yelled. It probably wasn’t even that bad, really. He looked down to check and— immediately gagged upon seeing all the blood.

    His pulse was loud in his ears, almost completely drowning out the already-hushed conversation his teammate was having. Seconds stretched on for hours until at last, Ryan shoved the communicator back into his pocket and turned to him.

    “Look...” he began, his voice low and gentle like he was talking to a startled rabbit.

    Gavin reached over and grabbed by his sleeve, leaving a bloody smear against the leather. “No. No. You can’t leave me.” His voice shook as he spoke, desperate pleas falling from his mouth like a waterfall, “Please! I’ll do anything— whatever you want. You can’t— you can’t just leave me to die here!”

    Ryan paused, his eyes seemed to light up. As the world started to spin around him, Gavin had the crushing feeling he was talking to the devil himself. “Anything?”

    “Yes! Whatever I have to!”

    “Okay. But I want you to know, if I do this, you’re part of the crew. Forever.”

    He was faintly aware of a bullet breaking the window behind them, sending glass falling over them like confetti. “Yes sure no problem! I’ll even suck your dick on the way to the hospital too!”

    Ryan just laughed. “Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”

    Realistically, Gavin knew that there were worse last words to have. The first guard they took down had been giving his lunch order for christ’s sake. But the sheer stupidity of their conversation would probably haunt him through the afterlife. Y’know, if he ever got there.

    It felt like a splitting headache, worse than anything he’d ever felt (until getting shot a few minutes ago, that is, it was pretty equal to that). Then it was gone. Like he blinked and it vanished. The pain in his side was gone too. But the gunfire in the background remained and Ryan was still there and he could still feel the blood.

    He could also hear Geoff cussing out Ryan for whatever it was he just did. “You can’t just shoot him like he’s a rabid dog! What the fuck is your problem!”

    “Yeah!” Gavin shot back. Did Ryan just shoot him? Impossible, he was still alive. He... _was_ still alive, wasn’t he?

    There was silence over the communicator.

    “...God damn it, Ryan.”

    “I un-killed him, Geoff.” Everyone could practically hear the smug smile under Ryan’s mask.

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin said, looking at Ryan,then down to his blood-stained shirt and back again.

    “I’ll tell you later.” Ryan shoved his sidearm into Gavin’s hands, “Just get shooting, we’re pressed for time.”

 

* * *

 

    From that point, the heist continued as planned. Gavin managed to keep his mouth shut around Ryan, but kept trying to steal a moment to ask one of the other Fakes what had happened, never once getting a clear answer.

    "Nothing happened." Jack said, glaring over at Ryan with a tight-lipped scowl.

    "Don't worry about it." Geoff clapped Gavin on the shoulder and muttered something he couldn't quite hear.

    "You're a zoooooombie." Ray said, laughing as he wiggled his fingers for extra emphasis. Jack was quick to silence him with a sharp look and a swat on the head.

    "Not funny."

    "I wasn't trying to be."

    Finally, _finally_ , when they were on their third target and he was posted at the back doors with Michael, did Gavin get something even resembling an answer.

    "So...do you you believe in magic?" he asked casually.

    "What, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat? The hell’s that got to do with anything?" Gavin bounced on his heels, craned awkwardly to try and see around the side of the building. With all the noise Ryan was making at the front entrance and Ray guarding their escape on the roof, the two of them were unlikely to run into anyone back here. They were just an extra security measure, and according to the boss it always paid to have a little extra security.

    "A lot. Answer the question." Michael seemed antsy too. He paced around in front of the door, tapping the barrel of his shotgun against his leg impatiently, like he was just itching to fire it.

    "We're robbing a bloody bank, I don't see what magic's got to do with it."

    "So that's a no?"

    "It's a stupid question is what it is." Gavin rolled his eyes and tried to check around the corner again.

    Michael put his hands up defensively and shrugged, “Alright, I’m just asking.” a few moments went by silently. He kicked at the gravel under his feet, spraying rocks everywhere. It was amazing how Michael could make robbing a bank seem just as boring as waiting in line at one. “But it’s uh...real weird you’re not shot anymore, isn’t it?” Gavin could tell from his tone he was leaning into something, trying to force Gavin into putting the pieces together himself.

    “It’s weirder that none of you will tell me what’s going on!” He punched the wall for emphasis. Pain shot up his arm, stinging well after  he pulled away and tried to shake it off. So much for being threatening.

    Michael kept the same almost-teasing tone in his voice, dangling the answer just out of Gavin’s reach. “Let’s just finish the heist for now. I’ll be easier to explain when we can prove it.”

    “Oh come _on_! Why are you —”

    At that moment their communicators crackled to life with Geoff’s voice. “Alright, safe’s empty. I want everyone on the roof in one minute or we’re leaving you behind.”

    “But _daaad._ ” Michael whined in mock protest as he threw open the door. Gavin followed him through the back-end hallways of the bank towards the elevators. Relief mixed with anticipation and dread as he realised he was getting close to getting his answers. All of it replaced with dread when the pair met the cold, smiling eyes of the Vagabond outside the lift.

    “Look, he’s still alive,” Michael beamed, pointing at Gavin, “and it wasn’t even hard!

    “Good for you.” was all Ryan said. He refused to answer to any further prodding as the doors opened and the three of them entered. The elevator music served only to heighten the tension as they took their slow ascent to the roof.

    The flat white color of the sky nearly blinded him when the lift opened up again. Jack’s helicopter was perched near the edge of the roof, with Ray, Geoff, and herself waiting impatiently inside.

    “A minute and three seconds. I should make you boys walk home.” Geoff smiled as the remaining three Fakes climbed into the cabin. He signaled Jack to take off and stood to address the whole crew, “I’d say this was a job well done, gentlemen...except Ryan.”

    “Shut up.” Ryan groaned. Gavin stifled a laugh and wondered if he would ever get used to the constant clashing between the gang’s terrifying image and petty, teenagerish attitudes.

    Geoff ignored him and continued on, “Little above two hundred thirty grand...split six ways...comes out to some math I don’t feel like doing now. Point is—” He opened his coat to reveal a bomb strapped to his side. Gavin froze. He looked around at the other crew members, who all reacted with only mild surprise. Like he’d told them it was actually a day later than they’d thought or something. “I’ve had enough of you dumbshits claiming all the money for yourself, so it’s staying with me and Jack in the cockpit and if anyone tries anything I’m blowing it all up.”

    The other three around him erupted in protest.  “That’s like half the fun of these things.” Ryan said.

    “I was only gonna take Ryan’s share.” Michael said, turning to Gavin and giving him a look like he was asking for backup.

    Confused as he was, Gavin made a half-assed attempt. Though he wasn’t quite sure how convincing he sounded with his voice shaking, “Y-yeah. Ryan did a crap job back there—”

    The Vagabond leaned over Michael to get in Gavin’s face “Hey, I’m the only reason you’re _alive_ right now—”

    “And the reason he wasn’t.” Ray added, pushing Gavin back as he leaned in too close to get away from Ryan.

    “I swear to god, Ray, I’m gonna—aagh!”

    Geoff let his coat fall back into place as he went over and pulled Ryan back into place by his hair. “You’re _gonna_ sit there and not kill anyone for the rest of the ride. The whole day if you can make it that far. In fact, all four of you are gonna do that. Got it?”

    He was answered with a muttered chorus of “Yeah, Boss.” Gavin just nodded, not quite over the bomb threat which the others had all but forgotten.

    “...Got it, Gav?” Geoff turned to him, locking eyes with the poor guy. He knew Gavin wouldn’t kill anyone, and _Gavin_ knew he knew...it felt more like a formal agreement, like he was signing himself over to the Fakes officially.

    “I got it, Boss.”

    “Perfect. Welcome to the family.”

    He shook hands with the man who had a bomb in his coat and watched as he disappeared into the cockpit. Everyone else went about their own business as the city sped past below them. Because helicopters were easily tracked, they’d lose the police and dump this one in the forest somewhere. Then they’d make the trip back to base— back...home?— in getaway cars Michael and Ray had hidden beforehand. Jack explained this earlier as “usual procedure” and only elaborated when she realized Gavin was there.

    Would Gavin reach that point in the future? Where any part of a bank robbery would be “usual procedure”? Where he wouldn’t flinch at a man threatening to blow them all up? Would he reach a point where any of the things they said and did at least _made sense_? Hopefully. But he suspected he was a long ways away.

 

* * *

 

    “So you already said you don’t believe in magic.” Michael began, pulling up a chair to sit at the bar counter in the kitchen. Boxes of takeout lined the marble countertop, nearly obstructing him from view. Gavin sat _on_ the table a few feet away, already having made himself at home. “Anything we can do to change that?”

    “I don’t quite see why it matters so much.” Gavin shrugged, picking at his plate.

    “It matters,” Geoff began between sips of beer, “because I don’t want to stain the carpet if we can just, like, pull a rabbit out of someone’s ass.”

    “He said rabbit before too, why is everyone so obsessed with rabbits?”

    “It’s just what you think of.” Ray offered as he walked into the kitchen, trailing smoke from his second celebratory blunt. “Like when I tell someone ‘I do magic’ they think I’m some loser at a casino who does card tricks and saws women in half.”

    “You could say wizard. But then the Harry Potter jokes would never stop.” Geoff said, rolling his eyes.

    “Dude that’s perfect! He’s even British.” Ray went over to Gavin and, in a terrible attempt at a Scottish accent, said “Yer a wizard, Gavvy.”

    Gavin pushed him away, “Don’t call me that. And go back to ‘proving’ magic to me. What’s that about?”

    Geoff took out a pistol and aimed it at Michael, who made no move to even stop him. “Should I do you, or Ray?”

    “Why not Jack?”

    “You're here and I don't feel like getting up.”

    Ray shrugged and walked in between the two. “I’ll go. Michael takes too long.”

    “Alright, don’t stand in front of a window.”

    Gavin would have interrupted at this point, but he honestly wanted to see how far they would go with this. So he stayed silent as Ray stood against a wall, pulled out a necklace from under his shirt, and held it tight as Geoff pulled the trigger.

    It was infinitely less clean than in the movies, blood and gore splattered out all over the wall. Ray fell forwards from the force of it, spilling even more onto the kitchen floor and, regrettably, the living room carpet. Gavin put his plate to the side and stood up, hoping to quickly and silently make his escape before these maniacs decided—

    “Don’t move.” Geoff said. The gun was down, tucked back into his jacket, and there was no malice in his voice. However, that didn’t do much to calm down their newest recruit. He stood completely still, barely even daring to breathe, eyes locked on the mess that was once a longtime member of the crew. His heart hammered in his ears, his hands were shaking, he was honestly grateful he didn’t piss himself out of pure fear.

    Then, something strange happened. The necklace, still clutched in Ray’s hand, began to glow. The light spread throughout his whole body, until for just a second, he was cloaked completely in a blinding light. When it faded, any sign of the injury was gone, and Ray stood up good as new. He took a bow, smirking at Gavin’s shocked expression. “Tadaaaa, magic.”

    Gavin looked back towards Geoff and Michael, now joined by the remaining two members of the crew who slipped in while Gavin was...distracted. They all gave him the same look, even Ryan, finally free of his mask.

    “So,” the smarmy bastard said, “do you believe in magic?”

    “...I guess I kind of have to now.”


	2. Chapter 2

    When night fell in Achievement City, its citizens knew well enough to go home. The Fakes conducted their business at all hours, but they favored daylight. They liked an audience, night vision was a hassle, Geoff liked his beauty sleep— whatever their reason, it was rarer to see them causing mayhem in the dark. Nighttime was when the Vagabond went out.

    Unlike the Fakes and their showy, big-time targets, the Vagabond was more...personal. He stalked through the streets, a rifle on his back and cold, bloodthirsty eyes scanning the alleys for his next prey. Sometimes he was benevolent, dispatching muggers and other lowlives while their would-be victims ran away safely. Tonight, he just wanted to let off some steam, and decided to see where the wind blew him.

    The wind blew Ryan to a convenience store parking lot not unlike the one Gavin had sloppily blown up earlier that day, getting the police called on them when Ryan just wanted some _goddamn_ — whatever. That didn’t matter now. Past the obnoxious window posters for their latest product, Ryan could see a pair of cops talking with the person behind the counter. A quick scan of the lot revealed their cruiser tucked neatly in a far-off parking space. He thought about stealing it, they sure seemed distracted enough, but hotwiring a car was so annoying.

    He shouldered his rifle and aimed right into the closer one’s ear. With any luck, it would travel through his head and into the poor sap behind him, but Ryan could afford the second shot if luck didn’t favor him. With a devilish grin, he squeezed the trigger.

    The blast of a gun was always, always deafening, but he’s long since gotten used to the noise. He welcomed the kick like a kiss from a lover and watched, still grinning, as the first officer’s head cracked and spilled over as the second one fell back. Two birds, one stone.The kid behind the counter was frozen, pale as death. Ryan smiled at him, waving at him as he walked up to the entrance.

    Shattered glass and gore decorated the dingy tiles, crunching under Ryan’s boots as he waltzed over to his targets. The kid didn’t move, because he was smart, because he recognized death when he saw it in person. Ryan turned the first body over with his foot, causing more blood to ooze from the pulpy mass that was once a head. He knelt down and started rummaging through the officer’s pockets. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the clerk tremble, watching him as though he might start eating the body. He tried it once, years ago, didn’t quite like the taste.

    No keys. He took the man’s wallet and moved on to his partner. A woman with enough face left over that he swore she looked like Jack. He thought about taking a picture but decided that, even for his persona, that was probably too creepy. As he searched her pockets he heard shoes scuffing against the tiles and whipped his head back towards the counter.

    The clerk froze again, only a foot away from where he had been, with his phone in his hands. “Kid,” Ryan said flatly, “I wasn’t gonna shoot you. Don’t make me change my mind.” He locked eyes with him for a second, until the man looked away, dropping his phone and raising his hands defensively. Satisfied, Ryan returned to his work, quickly getting the keys, the woman’s wallet, and shoving her gun into his jacket for good measure.

    He stood up, holstered his rifle, and fished a few wadded up bills from the wallet. Silently, he placed them on the counter. “I’d like to buy a few-minutes head start. Feel free to call the cops when it’s over.” With that, Ryan walked out of the store and into the night.

 

    Most people think police cruisers can go faster than normal cars. They’re wrong, especially when European models are concerned, but they can go just as fast for longer and soak up a hell of a lot of bullets before they break down. Both of those factors are extremely useful when you find yourself illegally in possession of one and leading the world’s most aggressive parade down the backroads of Achievement City.

    Ryan sped through a rain of gunfire as he neared the cliffs, the road (or lack thereof eventually) in front of him illuminated only by the flashing red and blue lights behind him. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed three cars following him, each probably with only one or two officers inside, though he couldn’t quite tell. The engine protested as he continued uphill, but he ignored it, figuring the car was thoroughly trashed by now anyway.

    As he breached the top of the cliff, just barely able to see the ink-blackness of the sky and sea stretching out on the horizon, he stopped. Put it in park. And stepped outside. He held his hands up as the police caught up to him, smiling even, to show he meant no harm.

    Not a single one stepped out of their car, far too cautious to even risk it. “Ryan Haywood,” one of them began through their speaker, though he couldn't see who against the blinding headlights, “Surrender peacefully or we will be forced to shoot.”

    “I’ve surrendered.” he said, waving his hands “Clearly.”

    Three silhouettes popped up in front of the headlights, two holding guns, one holding cuffs. Ryan raised his eyebrows in surprise, all this and they were still willing to send him to jail?

    “Put your hands on the car.” the one with the handcuffs said as he approached. Ryan rolled his eyes but complied, allowing the man to pat him down while his companions gave the usual spiel. He waited until the officer made a grab for the concealed gun to whirl around and slam an elbow into his nose.

    The man fell to the ground, gripping his face tightly. Blood seeped up between his fingers and then sprayed over everything as Ryan shot him right between his eyes. Pain, dulled by adrenaline, bloomed all across Ryan’s body. He tried to catch his breath, but one of them must have shot him in the lung,. This, at least, saved him the trouble of coming up with some witty one-liner as he turned to the pair. He coughed and smiled at them— he was always one for theatrics and few sights were as dramatic as blood bubbling out between someone’s teeth— as one final bullet was fired.

 

    The Vagabond fell to the ground, eyes open and smiling. He was dead, yet none of the officers could shake the feeling that they fell for a trap.

    “Well, you know what to do.” One of the officers announced, turning back to her squad, “Call the chief, call the morgue...call Jamison’s family. It’s gonna be a long night, guys.” Her partner nodded and went on ahead. She tried to follow, but it felt like something was holding her there.

    The woman looked back towards the bodies and— hadn’t the Vagabond been wearing his face paint? Could she have just imagined that? A cold wind skimmed the back of her neck. It was the sea, she reasoned. Even when it felt like an icy hand had wrapped around her, holding her in place. It was just the sea.

    Then everything went cold. Everything went dark. Everything just...went.

    Ryan took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. Blonde now, and long enough to put into a ponytail, but not by much. He scowled as he watched the woman’s partner go on ahead, at least that guy would have fit in his clothes back home.

    Said partner turned back to him, “Come on, Mary. You said it yourself. It’s gonna be a long night.”

    “It will” he nodded, getting a feel for his new voice, “but not for you.”

    The element of surprise was invaluable in a fight, allowing him to knock off half of the squad before they even drew a gun against him. Mary moved a bit faster than his last body, whose name he’d long since forgot, just as he would hers. The rest were just as easy, and as the final one went down, he began to wish he spared them, even if just to use their body instead of this one. He really ought to buy his clothes in more sizes.

* * *

     Gavin woke up to a light (well, light by his post-gunshot standards) jab in the ribs. He flung himself forward, flailing his arms to shoo away the assailant, “Jesus! What was that for?”

    “You were asleep in the living room. Figured you’d like your bed better.” He had never heard the voice before in his life. Nor, when he looked up, had he seen its owner. A woman in a bloodstained police uniform stood over him, though it was too dark to see anything but a cold glint in her eyes.

    “Who the hell are you?” he asked, digging through his mind for every hidden weapon location in the penthouse— geez were there that many?

    “Ryan.” She said.

    “No. Really.” He stood up now, just a smidge taller than her, and tried his best intimidating glare, “Get out before I make you get out.” She wasn’t impressed. “Ryan” rolled her eyes and reached over to turn on the lamp, momentarily blinding them both.

    As Gavin’s eyes adjusted he saw her entire face was painted with the same red and black design that Ryan’s was. “Really. It’s Ryan. I died.” With that, the intruder turned around and started walking towards Ryan’s room.

    “What, and now you’re a woman?”

    “Nope. Just borrowing one. Happens sometimes.” She... _He_ said as he shut the door behind him.

    “Pretty bullshit if you ask me.” Gavin said, to nobody in particular. Though he didn’t know enough about, well, anything yet, to prove it.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, resolving to get some answers tomorrow as he walked towards the only available bedroom in the penthouse.

 

    When he woke up in a starkly clean room, Gavin thought for a second that he was in a hospital. White sheets, white curtains, cream-colored walls, the only pop of color was the deep emerald green blanket he had wrapped himself up in as he slept. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair as the previous day’s events came flooding back to him. In hindsight, he _felt_ like he should be in a hospital right now, a mental one.

    He shrugged out of the covers and pulled his shirt up to see where he’d been shot. Despite all of the blood dried into the fabric, there wasn’t even a scratch. “Fucking hell...” he muttered, letting it fall back down. If this was his new life, if he really was a walking corpse, if there was no going back, he might as well just get used to it.

    The smell of something cooking and a dull pang of hunger broke him from his thoughts. Could a corpse get hungry? Could a corpse still eat bacon? Now was as good a time as any to find out.

    He didn’t know what he expected to find in the kitchen, but it wasn’t the other Fakes sitting around the table like a family straight out of a sitcom. Geoff sat at the head of the table doing a crossword puzzle over a steaming cup of coffee. Ryan, if last night’s encounter was to be believed, sat next to him in an ill-fitting jacket, peeling an orange with one of his many ornate knives. Jack was at the stove, cursing as the bacon spat hot oil at her. Michael and Ray were the children, each with a stack of pancakes and all the groggy half-awareness of a teenager that had been dragged out of bed too early. There was one last person that Gavin didn’t recognize. Some blond girl who sat with her legs up on Michael’s lap, talking animatedly about something Gavin didn’t quite catch before she stopped to look at him.

    “I guess that’s the new guy?” She asked, turning to Ryan.

    “Yep.” Ryan said, sticking his knife in the table, “Lindsay, that’s Gavin. Gavin, Lindsay. She just got home this morning.”

    “She should’ve been home on Wednesday.” Jack added with a chastising look.

    Lindsay’s smile didn’t falter, “I got the money though, so it all worked out—”

    “You were supposed to blackmail the guy, not kill him.”

    “It still worked out!”

    “Do you know what blackmail even means?” Michael asked.

    “Yes!”

    “Then why did you need to shoot him? Hell why did you even bring a gun with you, all you needed was a camera!”

    Lindsay shifted to sit cross-legged and and answered him with a cheeky grin, “I like to be prepared.”

    “Prepared to not do your _job_?” Michael sighed and turned to Geoff, “Help me out here, boss.”

    Geoff shook his head, not looking up from the paper, “I’ve learned a long time ago that it’s just best not to argue with her. She got the money we wanted from him, and while blackmail would’ve been cleaner she didn’t get caught. Didn’t even die. That’s all I can ask.” Just as Gavin tried to walk away, he looked up, “Hey Gav, why don’t you join us?”

    “Nah, it’s uh, it’s fine. I need to go back to my apartment and—”

    “No, no, we can do that later. Just pull up a chair. Jack can make you something.”  he added with a cordial wave.

    “Did Ryan cut his hands off too?” Jack asked, sitting down on Geoff’s other side with a full plate of bacon and eggs.

    “Be nice,” Geoff gave her a light shove, “I’m trying to make him feel more at home.”

    Jack was quick to return the gesture. “So am I, you cook for yourself at home.”

    Gavin took the last remaining seat while they bickered, situating himself between Ray and Ryan. They each gave him a casual “Morning.”  before going back to their food. Some part of him wondered if this was staged, but between them all seeming so at ease with each other and the lack of a reason to pretend, this might have just been how things were.

    Geoff clapped his hands together as soon as Gavin sat down, startling him. “Allllright. Now that we’re all here, you’ve probably got some questions. I like to think I answered them all last night when we ruined the carpet, but you do seem like kind of an idiot. So go ahead, Gavin, ask away.”

    His eyes went wide. Oh shit, this was a trap, wasn’t it? None of them had weapons on them (save for Ryan’s knife) but he’d seen plenty hidden away within the short time he’d been there. Six pairs of eyes looked him over in at least mild interest. He had to say _something_ now! “This is really Ryan?” he stared ahead at Geoff, but pointed to the person next to him, who laughed a feminine, yet distinctly dark laugh.

    “Yeah, it’s—”

    “Not really.” Geoff shrugged, “It’s some woman Ryan’s possessing.”

    Ryan’s eyes went wide, the humor was gone from his voice when he spoke, “Oh, so we're telling him everything?”

    “Everything he asks about.” Geoff nodded, his voice was also suddenly serious, but also very earnest, like a teacher explaining something to a struggling student. “Thanks to you, he didn’t have a choice in joining. He at least deserves to know what he’s gotten into.” Ryan sat back, lips pressed into a thin line.

    When they first met, all Gavin could feel was fear. The Kingpin of the fakes didn’t cut an intimidating figure, he wasn’t very muscular and was barely taller than Gavin himself, but he carried himself like a giant. If Gavin had ever believed in auras and other such crap, he would’ve said Geoff’s was pure black, exuding a menace that snuffed out anyone else in the room. He agreed to the job only in part for money. The other part was that he knew he couldn’t afford to get on this man’s bad side.

    Surprisingly, as Geoff spoke to him now, Gavin could feel a small bit of that fear fade away. “Possessing? Is he some kind of bloody ghost?”

    “Exactly. And if you’re gonna ask, none of the rest of us are ghosts. Ryan’s just weird.”

    “How come you can do all this— and please don’t say magic.”

    That earned a smile from the kingpin. He rubbed his chin pensively as he tried to think of an answer, “Sorry kid. That’s what it is.” Geoff held out his other hand, letting a ball of glowing light form in his palm. It rolled and twisted, changing shape over and over until finally it dissolved into something that made a knot of fear form in Gavin’s stomach. It was still a glowing ball, but it seemed to give off an inklike darkness, coiling into itself before Geoff closed his hand and erased it from existence. “Necromancy if you want to get specific, but I don’t. It sounds...kind of nerdy.”

    Gavin’s next question surprised even himself, “Can I do that?”

    More surprising was how fast Geoff was able to answer. “No.” Seeing Gavin’s confused and defeated expression, he elaborated, “Maybe at one point, but not anymore thanks to Casper over here.”

    Gavin was quiet for a few moments. “Am _I_ a ghost too?”

    “A little. From what I understand you’re like...a ghost possessing a zombie.”

    “...What’s that mean? For— for me, that is. I understand what you’re saying. I think.”

    Once again, Geoff had to think it over. He pulled at his moustache as a worried look overtook him. The room was silent. Made all the more so by the curious stares of the other Fakes, flitting across the table between Gavin, Ryan, and Geoff. At last, the boss answered.

    “To be honest...I have no fucking clue.”


End file.
